The Times Ahead
by Walking with Kings
Summary: Dumbledore is dying. An old man on his last days, he finds a student, an heir, to uphold his family name. Very AU, no BWL, Slytherin!Harry, Apprentice story.
1. The Prologue

Prologue: A Very Interesting Evening

Dumbledore was dying. It was an inevitable truth, one that he had accepted long ago. He was dying, childless, old, and alone. His magic was waning, on its last legs, unable to perform the grand feats of magic that he could once sustain so easily. At one-hundred and fifty-two years old, he could feel his life slipping away from between his fingers.

Dumbledore was dying.

"Headmaster?" A soft voice called from the door. Dumbledore shook himself out of his reverie with a sigh. The fire in the hearth was crackling merrily, in sharp contrast to the emotions raging through the ancient wizard as he turned to face the young lad now standing at panicked attention in his office doorway.

"Hello Harry," Dumbledore replied to the young man he had injured so much, "Please, have a seat. I would like a word with you."

"Am I in trouble, sir?" The boy asked nervously.

"No, Harry, you have done nothing wrong. Not that I know of, at least," He replied, eyes twinkling as he surveyed the young boy over the top of his half-moon glasses. Oh, how he remembered with fondness how many times he had been in Harry's shoes in his youth. He cracked a small smile at the thought, but that brief moment of happiness died quickly as he remembered why he had called the boy to his office.

There was silence, as Dumbledore placed his thoughts in order. Harry Potter sat in the plush recliner that the Headmaster had provided nervously, shifting around and fidgeting with the soft fabric on the arm of the chair.

And the Headmaster began to speak.

"A long time ago, far longer than I care to admit, I was born in a town called Godric's Hollow. The same town as you were born in, in fact. I had two younger siblings, a sister and a brother. My sister," Dumbledore abruptly cut himself off, closing his eyes, "My sister was a frail young girl. My brother was similar to me in my youth. Hot-headed, short-tempered, and impulsive.

"For a time, we lived happy lives in that small village with our mother and father. But that changed when I went to Hogwarts. I met a young man in my Third year named Gellert Grindlewald. We both saw that our world was flawed, and for a long time he swayed me to his beliefs. We did many great and terrible things together. When we were a bit older, my sister was attacked by muggles. My father defended her, and was sent to Azkaban Prison. My sister developed... a condition. Her magic became flawed. Unstable. My mother was killed when my sister let her emotions get out of control. My sister went insane from the trauma of what she had done. She died not long after." A single tear dropped from beneath the Headmaster's half-moon glasses as his raging emotions surged within his frail chest. Shaking, he raised his hands to remove his glasses and wipe his eyes in a not-so-graceful manner on his sleeve.

There was silence for a time before either of them spoke. Dumbledore was reflecting on his past, Harry was digesting this new information, and wondering why he had been told this.

"Harry, I will be frank, because I am sure you are confused. You are a very bright young lad, much like myself at your age. The only real difference between us is our respective houses, as I was in Ravenclaw, whereas you are a Slytherin. But I digress."

"Harry, I have decided to step down as Headmaster of Hogwarts."

There was a long moment of stunned silence as Harry sat, eyes wide in his head, looking like he did not quite believe what had just been said. That moment soon passed. Harry stood up and opened his mouth to protest, but the ancient mage stopped him before he could say anything.

"The reason for this may be a bit confusing to you, being only eleven years old, but in the coming years you will understand. You see, Harry, I need an heir. Someone to inherit the Dumbledore name."

"Harry, I would like for you to become my apprentice and heir."

An: Sorry for the short prologue. The next chapters will be longer, and they will feature a badass Dumbledore, for once. I'm gonna be flexing my creative muscles with the magic they'll be doing. Don't expect "Flame Whips." Expect angels and demons and words of insanity.


	2. The Teacher

_**The Teacher**_

"_Expecto Patronum_!" A flash of fantastic silver light burst forth from the tip of a man's wand. A magnificent white stag stood glowing in the aftermath of the bright flash, as the students blinked to adjust their eyes to the sudden change in brightness in the dimly lit room. Torches flickered innocently in their brackets on the walls lining the room, as the beast formed from the happiest memories of their professor's life stood regally in front of them.

"This, students, is a corporeal patronus. It has many practical applications, including driving away Dementors, possibly determining the form of any Animagus you may have, and acting as a secure messenger." The Professor paused for a moment, as the students quickly scribbled down the information. As the quills' scratching began to die down, he continued, "I first achieved a corporeal patronus in my third year of Hogwarts. I do not expect that any of you will have reached that point in your studies by your third year.

"I am here to teach you the intricacies of what was once called Battle Magic. In your upper years, you will be taught magic that has been used in war. However, you will not reach that class if you are found to have any ill intentions of using it.

"Be warned; I will not hesitate to bring you down, should you ever decide to use the magic I will teach you on another human being." He stopped here, and turned to survey the students. They were enraptured by his short speech, and more than a few had stopped writing all-together to listen.

"You may be wondering why I showed you a patronus, if I will be teaching you magic designed for war. Observe." Here, the man turned his back to the class and flicked his wand. At once, a solid wall made of lead materialized in front of the man's desk. At another flick of his wand, his patronus flared an angry red, brighter than anything they had ever seen, and radiating a sensation that made them clutch at their robes, drawing them tighter as many students began to gather together out of fear. Suddenly, the magical construct charged the conjured wall at a speed difficult for the students to track with their eyes, lowering its angry red horns as it hit the lead wall and _burned_ through it.

The students watched, dumfounded, as the lead wall, several feet thick, was sliced through with minimal effort by the fearsome stag. The wall continued to melt, even after the patronus had exited the other side of the wall, and come to stand next to their professor. The lead burned until there was nothing left but a small pile of leaden ash at the foot of his desk, and his patronus stood as docile as a domesticated dog by the side of its master.

"This, students, is not something I will teach you, as it is illegal to use outside of the most extreme circumstances. That, students, was blood magic." At this, the entirety of the magically-raised students paled and moved further away from the front of the room. The muggleborns just looked confused. "As your classmates will no doubt inform you later, blood magic is a highly dangerous, highly _illegal_ form of magic. The basis of blood magic is that the caster used his own life-blood to catalyze a reaction in the magic of a spell. As there is a sacrifice involved, the magic is naturally stronger; However, the strength of the spell is entirely dependent on the amount of sacrifice. A spell like the one I just demonstrated would kill most of you."

The students took notice of a dripping wound across their Professor's palm as he raised it above his head to show them the cost of power such as his. Before their eyes, he raised his wand and _cauterized the wound_ without so much as a flinch. As soon as the wound closed, the blazing red corporeal patronus flared back into its original pearly-white, glowing form.

The Professor sat down in the high-backed chair behind his desk, absentmindedly vanishing the remains of the wall he had conjured.

"I am Harry Potter, and I will be your professor for the next seven years. For the first four years of your education, I will be teaching you Charms."

He then waved his wandless hand, and the door swung open.

"I will see you all at our next class."

After the students had finished filing out of the room as quickly as they possibly could, Harry called out tiredly to the empty room.

"Did you need something, Albus?"

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore shimmered into existence behind the high-backed chair Harry was sitting in.

"You know I dislike when you scare your students like that, Harry," Albus stated, his voice tired.

"They need to know what magic can do. This is the same way you taught me, if you recall," Harry said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. His lips were quirked up in a smile. "But I doubt you came here simply to hound my teaching methods, Albus."

"Astute as ever, my boy," The ancient Headmaster chuckled, conjuring himself a chair in front of the fireplace, not at all surprised when he saw that Harry had somehow beaten him there, and was sitting in the same position he had been behind his desk. "And I see that you are still employing that little trick. Its simply amazing that you figured out how to maneuver the castle's wards in such a way."

"As I remember it, it annoyed you to no end, this 'little trick' of mine."

"Old age tends to put things in perspective, in a way that nothing else does," The Headmaster said plainly, smiling down at his favourite student.

"You weren't exactly a spring chicken when you began teaching me, Albus," The man said with mirth, as he gestured for the headmaster to take his seat.

"Indeed," Albus laughed, taking his seat. There was a momentary lapse in conversation as both occupants of the room stared into the crackling fire in front of them.

"When?" Harry asked suddenly, not looking at Albus.

"I have finished teaching you, and you have taken up a post at this school, as per our agreement. It will not be long now."

"But for now, I am still bound to you as your apprentice. What is your will, _master_?" He did not say it snidely, the emphasis simply made it clear that he was still aware of their agreement.

"I am dying, as you well know. Very soon, I will be dead. My last wish... Nay, my last _order_, is that you continue to teach here, and impart your knowledge in a way that you see fit," The ancient wizard let his statement ring in the silence that followed.

"Very well, master," Harry said soberly, after a long moment of comfortable silence.

There was no answer, and neither had he expected one. For a long while, Harry did not turn to look at his mentor, simply choosing to stare into the fire as it slowly died down. As the final flames began to flicker and die, casting the room into long shadows, Harry finally looked at the only man he had ever looked up to, the greatest wizard of the modern age, and said his farewells.

Albus Percival Brian Wulfric Dumbledore had died.

And so Hadrian James Potter called for Madame Pomfrey with a patronus, and continued to sit in the silence of the dying fire, cherishing the last moments he would ever spend in the company of his mentor.

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><p><strong>AN: FINALLY GOT AROUND TO UPDATING.<strong>

**Yeah, there's a huge time-jump here. This is Harry after the apprenticeship, obviously. This story is going to jump back and forth between the apprenticeship and afterward alot, just to warn you guys. Although, so far, it seems I only have two readers. xD **

**PLEASE REVIEW. I cannot stress that enough. To us authors, its like crack. I want to know what you guys like, what you don't like, what you want to me to continue, etc. Its also the reason I'm not writing these chapters too long. Two reviews for a short prologue is nice, so I wrote a longer chapter (About twice as long, actually), and if reviews go up proportionally, I'll continue to write longer and longer chapters. So, PLEASE REVIEW. **

**My name is Brandon, by the way. And I've lost all motivation for my other story, so I don't know if I'll continue with it or not. Time will tell.**


	3. The Funeral

_**The Funeral**_

It was a cold day in Northern Scotland. Fitting, Harry supposed, for the occasion for which this congregation had gathered. Harry surveyed the crowd, listening to snippets of conversation here and there. He recognized many of the people gathered on the grounds of Hogwarts castle, near the Black lake. It was hard not to know who they were, really, as most of them were the highest of high society in wizarding Britain. And most of them were his cousins, as he found out the hard way during his tutelage with Albus.

Albus... The reason that they were gathered here. The funeral of the late Albus Percival Brian Wulfric Dumbledore. The last moments of the most famous man in recent history. The service for the man who had destroyed Gellert Grindlewald.

Harry sincerely hoped that no one would bring up that particular Dark Lord. Harry had worked very hard to cover the truth of his mentor's relationship with that man a secret, not because he thought it was wrong, but because, in the Victorian-style world they lived in, homosexuality was a great social offense. He did not want his mentor's reputation to be tarnished after his death, not like that.

A man stepping up to the podium next to Albus' casket snapped his attention back to the present. The man was Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister for Magic of the wizarding society of Great Britain. Harry would say he was the most powerful man in their society, but he knew better than that. He was in the pocket of the Purebloods, as most of his predecessors had been before him. He had promised change, but all he had wrought was more stagnation.

Rufus began his speech, and Harry promptly tuned him out. More ministry propaganda, of course. He instead used this time to observe the crowd before the podium. He saw people from all walks of life, from the rich to the beggars. Albus had truly been a popular man. Harry chuckled as he remembered all the times he had been asked to run for Minister, only to turn them all down.

"... and here to give the eulogy for this great man is his apprentice, Hadrian Potter, Order of Merlin, Second Class." Harry stood up and made his way to the podium reluctantly, knowing that he had to do this, but hating every minute of it.

When he reached the podium, he simply stood there for a moment, observing the faces of those in attendance. The majority of those assembled were stricken with grief, sorrowful for the loss of the man they had all loved so much. But some... Some had poorly hidden glee on their faces, and Harry memorized their names. He would deal with them later. He was a Slytherin, after all.

"We are here today, all of us, to mourn the loss of the greatest man I have ever known. We are here to mourn the death of a giant among men. We are here... to mourn for Albus Dumbledore." He paused for effect, and a woman somewhere in the crowd sobbed loudly.

"As many of you know, Albus approached me in my first year of Hogwarts to offer me an apprenticeship. Over the years that I knew him, he became my mentor, my friend, and most importantly, he became like a father to me.

"My father died when I was a young boy, as did my mother. I never truly knew them, and it left a void in my life. When Albus came into my life, he filled that void.

"That isn't to say that we didn't have our fights. I'm sure all of you here today know that teenagers are hard on any parent," There were scattered chuckles through the crowd, and I cracked a sad smile.

"Albus... Was the greatest man I have ever known, and I sincerely doubt that I will ever meet a man as great as he."

With that, Harry stepped down from the podium. He approached the casket of his mentor, and drew his wand, preparing to do one last thing for his Father.

With a flick of his wand and a murmured incantation, the casket erupted into black fire.

Immediately, Aurors from the Minister's personal guard were upon him, wands drawn, and spells upon their lips. He absently waved my wandless hand and they dropped like flies. Not dead, of course, merely unconscious.

He turned his concentration back to the burning casket as he finished the spell. In the place where there was once a simple wooden casket, now stood a glorious tomb made of marble and silver. Magnificently intricate designs cascaded down the sides of the final resting place of his mentor, leading down to a open book, made of marble, on a podium. On the 'pages' of the book, an inscription read

_**Here Lies Albus Percival Brian Wulfric Dumbledore**_

_**Loving father, friend, and mentor**_

"_**Death is but the next great adventure."**_

And underneath was his date of birth, followed by his date of death. Harry smiled as he remembered all the time Albus had said those words to him, when they were talking of death. As macabre or grim as that seemed, both of them had seen far too much death in their lives, and it became a topic of long discussion to them.

Harry turned his attention back to the shocked crowd. "This is how I choose to commemorate my late master!" He shouted, foregoing the use of the _Sonorus_ charm, "If any of you object, I remind you that the Apprenticeship bond commands that I do as my master ordered, and this was his final order."

It was a lie, the bit about his final order, but they would never know that.

And with that, Harry revived the confused Aurors and walked back toward the castle, his job done. His trek was interrupted, however, by the appearance of Draco Malfoy.

"Truly a shame, Dumbledore's passing," He commended silkily, moving into Harry's path. "I don't know what we shall do without him."

"Your money is intact, so I'm sure you'll continue to buy favour with the Minister," Harry said blandly in return, moving to continue walking.

"Surely, Mr. Potter, that was not an insinuation that I would engage in illicit activities. We went to school together, after all. I thought you knew me better than that."

"I know you well enough, Mr. Malfoy."

They stared at each other for a long moment, before smiling and shaking hands.

"Walk with me, Draco," Harry said, walking toward the castle once again. "We have a lot to catch up on, I'm sure.

Twenty minutes later, the two respected wizards were sitting in Harry's office, sipping at glasses of Firewhisky in front of the fireplace.

"This is where he died, you know. On that chair you're sitting on," Harry commented, looking at his old friend from the corner of his eye. Draco sputtered out the alcohol he had been in the middle of drinking, and paled, scrambling out of the chair as fast as he could, drink sloshing and spilling.

"Only joking, Draco, only joking," Harry laughed, setting his drink on a small, ornate table next to his chair.

"You did always have a strange sense of humour, Potter. I remember why I dread ever living in the same place as you ever again," Draco said snidely as he sat back down in his chair.

"As I remember it, you weren't much better when we were kids," Harry returned, taking a sip of his whisky. He savoured the feeling of the burn in his throat and stomach as the alcohol worked its magic.

"Yes, well, I grew out of it. Which is more than I can say for you."

They were silent for a moment, each sipping at their drinks.

"I'm hearing whispers about you, you know," Draco started conversationally, "Nothing concrete, but people are talking about you. The Auror corps especially. You may find yourself under a fair bit more scrutiny than you're used to for a while."

"Mm," Was all Harry said. He had been expecting this, since Albus' death. He knew they were looking into his finances, so they definitely knew that he was the knew Lord Dumbledore, as well as having the Potter and Black lordships. It was understandable that they would be keeping an eye on him.

"May I borrow your wand for a moment, Draco?" The blonde man immediately handed it to him. "So trusting, Draco. What would your father say?" Harry joked, humour dancing in his emerald eyes.

To his credit, Draco hid his flich well at the mention of his father. "Luckily, my father has been dead and gone for quite a few years, as I'm sure you remember," Draco returned with a significant glance at Harry.

Harry took the proffered wand and waved it over his own. A silvery cloud ascended from the tip of his wand, drawing a 'tut tut' from Hary.

"Aurors, so sloppy these days. They can't even properly disguise a tracking charm," He commented as he destroyed the offending charm ruthlessly. He handed Draco his wand back.

"Indeed. The ranks are slipping recently."

"Mm."

There was silence once more, save for the crackling of the fire in the hearth, as the two men contemplated their respective issues. Draco thought about the man sitting next to him, and the dichotomy between the small, bespecktacled boy that had walked onto the train so many years ago, and the powerful man that sat next to him today. The thought drew a chuckle from him, which caused Harry to look at him oddly.

"Nothing Potter, nothing at all."

"Right," He said, rolling his eyes.

A knock sounded at the door, and Harry stood up. "That will be my assistant, Mr. Malfoy. I'll be back in a moment."

"Actually, I believe my wife is expecting me home before too late."

Harry nodded and the two men walked to the door. Draco bid his farewells, and left.

Harry turned to his assistant. "Yes?"

"You have a letter," She said, holding the offending letter aloft toward him, "Its from the ministry."

"Thank you, Rebecca. I'll see you in class tomorrow," He smiled down at her, and she blushed and left.

He returned to his office and opened the letter. Inside was a summons.

He smiled. Harry Potter was officially summoned to appear before the wizengamot, to face charges. For using Blood Magic.

He gave the letter a cheshire grin.

And then lit it on fire.

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><p><strong>AN: Yay! Another chapter done, in one day! A little longer than the last one, too. Hope you guys are still sticking around at this point. Oh, and don't worry about Rebecca. I have no idea why she is in there. I'll figure it out, though. <strong>

**And also, blood magic is going to be Harry's forte. Just so you guys know. I have spoken.**

**REVIEW!**


	4. The Trial

_**The Trial**_

Harry smiled all the way to the wizengamot chambers. Harry smiled as the Aurors escorted him inside. Harry smiled as they confiscated his wand. Harry smiled as they sat him in a chair in the center of the room, facing the members of the wizengamot. Harry smiled as the chains attached to the chair snaked themselves around his arms and legs, biting painfully into his skin. Throughout it all, Harry smiled.

Until, that is, the Minister for Magic stepped onto the podium. The smile slid gracefully off his face as he beheld the man behind this little farce of a trial. His emerald eyes turned cold and emotionless as the man listed his charges. His lips set into a firm line as the Minister listed the consequences for his actions.

And when the Minister asked if he had anything to say in his defence, Harry spoke.

"I cite the Wizengamot gathering of 1605," Harry said simply, and watched as a hush came over the crowd of purebloods. The gathering stilled. The Minister, to his eternal credit, simply stared blankly at him, glancing to the left to look at his aide for assistance.

Harry sighed. "Minister, really. You should at least know the history of this illustrious body that you preside over," He felt a surge of triumph as the Minister's face reddened in indignation. "Allow me to enlighten you, if it pleases the Wizengamot.

"In 1605, the Wizengamot of the time passed a law. A law that has yet to be changed, in fact. This law, put quite simply, allowed the lords of Noble houses tutelage in arcane arts, so as to preserve the knowledge that would otherwise be lost should those arts become unlawful."

By this time, the members of the Wizengamot had begun to chat nervously asmongst themselves. A brief burst of legilimency enlightened him as to what they were worried about. Harry smiled.

"It seems to me, Minister, that the _illustrious_ members of this body have seen fit to keep the contents of this moment in our history from the general public. Whatever shall I do?" Harry cracked a vicious grin, " I could, I suppose, keep this to myself. _Or_, I could go to the newpapers. Oh, they would have a field day with this, wouldn't they?" He stared up at the Minister for Magic. The man paled at the implications. He stared up at the Wizengamot. They were still, silent, nervous. "I can see the headlines now; Wizengamot Hides Prejudiced Law For Hundreds Of Years! Public Calls For Wizengamot To Be Dissolved! Old Law Favours PureBloods! Public Calls For Vote Of No Confidence!

"Gee, wouldn't that be fun? I'm thinking of going public with this, simply for the enjoyment of it!" Harry laughed uproariously at this.

"See, really, going by your own laws, I have done nothing wrong. I am the Lord of three seperate Noble houses. I am immune from persecution for practicing blood magic. You people seem to be under the impression that now that Albus has died, I am defenceless. Let me find a way to get this across to you," Harry stood, the chains that had been binding him disintegrated and fell to the floor as dust.

"I am far from defenceless. If you think differently, I invite you to challenge me to an honour duel. I'm sure that you can come up with some bullshit reason for what I have done to insult your honour," He gave a cheeky wink to the congregation, and apparated out with a 'pop'.

There was silence for a few minutes after Harry left.

Harry reappeared with another 'pop'. "Oh, and I almost forgot to say this; Next time you want to get me arrested, remember that I am one of you now." And he left again.

And all hell broke loose.

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><p><em>"Professor! Professor!" A much younger Harry panted as he ran to catch up with Albus, "Professor, where are we going?"<em>

_ "I have told you many times, Harry, that you are to call me either 'Albus' or 'Master.' And I have also told you many times which one I prefer." Albus said, eyes twinkling madly._

_ "Yes Pro- I mean, yes Albus. But, Albus, where are we going?"_

_ They were currently walking through a forest. Harry had no idea where they were, but he was sure that Albus-_

_ "I have no idea, my boy," He said cheerfully._

_ Or not._

_ "I've found that the greatest magic is found when you have no idea what you're looking for," Harry's mentor smiled a lopsided grin as he stepped over a gigantic root protruding out of the earth._

_ It was the summer after Harry's First Year. His newfound master had apparated him to a small encampment somewhere very humid, immediately following the end of the year feast. There were trees everywhere, trees he had never seen before. And the trees were _enormous_! Harry had never seen so much green in his life. _

_ "Focus, Harry." His mentor whispered. Harry snapped his attention back to the present, just in time to see a small fuzzy bird, about the size of the ring he could make with his thumb and forefinger, buzz right into his face._

_ On instict, his hand flashed upward and grabbed the animal. For a moment, nothing happened, and then it started biting._

_ "_Ow, ow ow!_" Harry yelled, his hand still clenched over the small animal inexplicably, "Albus! Help!"_

_ "Hold still a moment, my boy." He said calmly, pointing his wand at his young charge's hand. "_Immobulus_!" The creature immediately stopped moving._

_ "That spell is the immobilizing curse. The incantation is the _Immobulus_. The wand motion is a tight swirl, followed by a five-centimeter horizontal slash toward the target," As he described it, he demonstrated slowly, "I expect you to master this before dinner."_

_ Harry nodded and went to uncurl his hand from around the creature, but Albus stopped him._

_ "No, my boy. You'll be using your left hand for now. It is important that you learn to cast properly with both hands. Just for good measure," He pointed his wand at the boy's hand again, "Immobulus!" And Harry's hand became stiffened around the small animal. _

_ "There. Now," Here, Albus conjured a small bird, "Immobilize this."_

_ For the next few hours, Harry learned the spell. He practiced hard, not stopping when Albus suggested they take a break._

_ And he knew Albus was proud of him, when he didn't stop practicing to take a break. And he knew Albus was proud when he mastered the spell a few hours later._

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><p><em>Now Harry was a little older. He would have been in the second half of his Second Year, had he been a Hogwarts student. <em>

_ And he had never been more scared in his life._

_ Albus and Harry had been travelling. They had been many paces in the year that they had been together, and now they were somewhere in Germany. Or, he admitted to himself nervously, that's where Harry thought they were. He could never be sure, because Albus would never tell him. _

_ But Albus had left last night. And he had _told_ him to stay put. But Harry was curious. Albus never left him alone without telling him where he was going. _

_ Harry had been curious. And it almost cost him his life._

_ He had followed Albus deep into the woods, where it was darker than it naturally should have been, even for the time of night it was. The moon had stopped shining. The stars had gone out. It was dark. Harry was scared. But he pressed on, following Albus at a distance he knew the old wizard wouldn't notice, but close enough to keep his Master in his sight. _

_ Eventually, Albus had reached an old, dilapidated house. A shack, really. He did not approach it, at first, though. He raised his hand and seemed to _feel_ the air. And suddenly, the forest was awash with an angry red light. A shimmering dome had appeared surrounding the shack. Even he, with his admittedly small knowledge of magic, could _feel_ the age of the ward-structure. And it didn't seem very friendly to Harry. _

_ The former headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry tapped his wand against the dome, and it shattered like glass. Wards that had stood for centuries crumpled before the might of the old man. _

_ And a man, far older than Harry, yet so much younger than the headmaster, emerged from the house, waving a wand in his gnarled right hand._

_ And then there was light. _

_ Lights of more colours than Harry knew existed erupted from both mens' wands, clashing together in showers of sparks, like fireworks on Guy Fawkes' Day in London. Neither man said a word, and yet, somehow, he knew that words of power were drifting through the area on a ghostly wind. There, and yet, somehow, not there. Both very real and intangible. _

_ Suddenly, both men ceased fire upon each other. For several minutes, both his master and the gnarled man simply stood there, staring at each other, wands pointed toward the earthen floor of the forest. _

_ The trucks of the trees in the area surrounding them had been whittled away in flashes of whites and silvers, burnt into nothingness in flashes of reds and blues, or turned somehow lifeless in a burst of green light. The grass around them had been swept clean, thouroughly dead in the aftermath of their clash. _

_ Both combatants, and their observer, knew who had won this fight. The gnarled man was covered with sweat, a testament to how hard he had fought rested in the fact that he had not sustained any injuries that Harry could see. But they all knew who had won. _

_ Harry's master stood regally, wand at his side, looking as calm as he would had he been grading papers or critiquing Harry's wand movements. Neither his body, his robes, nor his tall wizard's hat has any damage, nor dirt or frayed edges. _

_ The gnarled man bent down and set his wand on the earthen floor of the forest, and when he had risen to his full height once more, he closed his eyes and smiled._

_ There was a subtle movement by his master, and the man erupted into a shower of blood. It was clear that _

_ Harry knew, as young as he was, that these were giants. Harry knew, as naïve as he was, that he was an ant. And he was scared._

_ And Harry had never been more excited in his life._

* * *

><p>The next day, Harry opened the morning Daily Prophet to find, to his eternal amusement, and article bashing him for his use of students as examples in the Duelling class he taught on weekends at the Auror Academy. And so began the Ministry's attempts at setting the public against him.<p>

He couldn't help it. He threw his head back and _laughed._ He laughed until tears were running freely down his face. He laughed until Madame Pomfrey had been called to check him over. Harry _laughed._

And when he had finally finished laughing, he framed that amazing article above his mantle.

* * *

><p>He was still finding it quite funny hours later, in his first class of the day. Fourth Year Charms.<p>

A few of the students had been curious about the article, and he had laid their fears to rest.

He called those few students who were suspicious of him (most of whom, he noticed with some amusement, had parents on the Wizengamot council) to the front of the classroom. He winked at the students remaining in their seats while those he called on were maneuvering toward the front. They were confused. He sighed. They obviously hadn't read the article, so they wouldn't understand the joke, he supposed. He fixed this with an absentminded flick of his wand, and every student suddenly had a copy of the article.

"Now, students, after you've finished reading, I want you to direct your attention toward the front." He waited patiently for a minute or so, until the majority of the students were looking at him. "Now, the ministry seems to think that I have been abusing my station as a teacher to make examples out of people. Have I ever done that to any of you?"

All the students shook their heads.

"Didn't think so. Have I ever given you grades that you did not earn, based on who your parents are?"

Negatives, again.

"That's what I thought. Oh, and in case you were wondering, I placed mild Truth Charms on the article you just read. So I know that I really didn't.  
>"And why are you kids standing up here?" He stared at them for a few seconds, then gestured for them to sit down. "Stupid kids and not getting my jokes..." He grumbled.<p>

"Alright! Now that we have that out of the way, lets learn some magic!" The students fumbled to grab their parchment and quills, and Harry smiled.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ANOTHER CHAPTER. That's three in one day. God, I'm awesome. Look at that, an atheist using the word "God." Ironyyyyy.<strong>

**Aaaanyway... Hope you guys like this chapter. I certainly had fun with it. I especially like the second little flashback. **

**REVIEW, AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK.**


	5. The Apprenticeship

_**The Apprenticeship**_

_It was his Thirteenth birthday. Albus had promised him a surprise present for his birthday, but really, he was just excited to get back to practicing magic. Ever since he had begun travelling with Albus, he had lived, ate, and _ breathed_ magic. He wanted nothing more than to be like his fathe- He blushed. He found himself referring to Albus as his father more than a few times recently. _

_ He couldn't help it! Albus treated him with far more kindness than the relatives he had been placed with when his parents died. He had been young when it had happened, and he really didn't remember them very much. But Albus told him stories when he couldn't sleep, held him when he was scared, and always remembered his birthday. _

_ So, yeah, he thought of Albus as his father. Not that he'd tell him that any time soon. It was mortifying. And did he really sound like that much of a girl?_

_ "Harry?" He heard Albus call from outside the tent. Well, 'tent' is a loose word. A wizarding tent could be the size of a multi-story house, and a casual observer couldn't tell the difference between it and a tent bought in a muggle store. _

_ "In here!" He called back, marking his place in the book he had been reading. He looked up from placing the book back in its place on the shelf in time to see Albus stride into the room, a large smile on his face._

_ "I see you've been reading. I take that to mean you have mastered the spells I assigned to you?" Albus said, fully in his teacher-mode. _

_ "Yes, sir." Harry replied dutifully. Personally, he thought they were moving at far too slow of a pace for him, but he wouldn't complain._

_ "Show me."_

_ Harry walked outside, wand in hand, and kept walking until he had passed through the protective wards that surrounded the campsite. He stopped when he was facing a large tree._

_ "Start with the first spell I taught you," Albus commanded as he waved his wand, conjuring a swarm of birds, which charged at Harry._

_ "Immobulus!" Harry cried, twirling his wand in a tight spiral before slashing it horizontally, freezing the swarm of birds in place. _

_ "Now the second."_

_ "Finite," He murmured. The birds dissappeared._

_ "Now begin the list. Start with the last spell, and work your way up."_

_ "Yes, sir," Harry said, raising his wand in front of him and moving into a duelling stance. From behind him, Albus looked at him oddly, but discarded it for the moment, and set his animations in place. _

_ "Confundo!" Harry cried at the first of the newly created wave of 'Strawmen' that were advancing toward him. The Strawman shook its head and turned around, pouncing on one of its brethren._

_ "Expulso! Expelliarmus! Confringo!" He casted the three spells in quick succession, each spell intended for a different target. The first spell hit its target, causing it to explode. The second spell missed, but hit a Strawman behind his intended target. The third spell hit the ground in front of three Strawmen, and the ground erupted, rising up in large clumps at high speeds and pelting the magical constructs, ripping them to pieces._

_ "Deprimo! Incendio!" The remaining Strawmen lunged just as Harry finished his second spell. A strong wind was created by his first spell, and the second released a magical fire into the gust. The Strawmen jumped directly into the blaze, burning to cinders in seconds._

_ "Very good, Harry. Now, one last spell for today. Turn to face me." To say Harry was surprised would be an understatement. Albus always made him practice against the Strawmen, never against Albus himself._

_ "The incantation is Corpus Dictatum. The wand movement is a stabbing motion, followed by a direction," Albus started, mimicking the wand movement as he explained it. "The effect of this curse is control over the victim's body. Although, for some reason, it also works on large plants." Here, he gestured to the towering forest around them. "Do keep in mind, though, that this allows control only over the body, not the mind. With enough will-power, a competent wizard or witch can easily over power this curse."_

_ Albus had taught him early on that no spell was infallible. It would not do for Harry to get too dependent on any one spell, or even type of spell. Transfigurations can be undone, charms can be cancelled, and curses can be blocked. So, Albus had said, use all three, and more._

_ Harry nodded, hiding his disappointment at not being able to duel with Albus, though he knew logically he was nowhere near ready._

_ "I'm going to go inside for a bit and take a nap. It has been quite a trying morning for me," Albus said, rubbing his leg in some phantom pain. _

_ "Yes, sir," Harry replied, moving to help his master inside, only to be waved off._

_ "I can manage this much, my boy."_

_ And he was gone._

_ Harry turned back to the tree he was to practice on. _

_ "Corpus Dictatum!" Harry cried, mimicking the wand-movement his master had demonstrated. Nothing happened. He tried again. And again. Again. Again. _Again.

_ Nothing. Not a twitch. Harry was beyond frustrated. _

_ "Corpus Dictatum!" He screamed in anger. Two things happened in quick succession. First, he cut his palm on a sharp stick left over from his assault on the Strawmen. Second, as he began the spell, he switched his wand into his newly injured hand, his lifeblood smearing into the wood. The was an earth-shattering _CRACK_, and the tree was seemingly prostrated on the ground, in the same spot that his wand was pointing to. _

_ Albus, of course, chose exactly this moment to emerge from the tent, a brightly wrapped gift in hand. He stopped short when he saw the tree, and the blood dripping from Harry's wand. _

_ "Well, my boy, we are certainly at a bit of a quandary now, aren't we?" _

_ Harry, for his part, was just confused, nervous, and in awe at what he had done._

* * *

><p>Harry took a long pull from the bottle of Firewhisky in his hand. His other hand was covering his eyes. He was crying. He had tried not to. Tried to buck up and be a man. But he couldn't. He needed to grieve. And so here he was, sitting in front of his fireplace at Four A.M., drunk. Far too drunk to be healthy, but he was beyond caring.<p>

It started out innocently enough. He was teaching his last class of the day, and a small, mousy first year student had asked him, with childish enthusiasm, where he had learned all the magic he knew. An innocent question, with a simple answer. And he had started to answer the small boy, but he noticed that he suddenly tasted something salty. He wiped at his face and stared dumbly at the moist sleeve that returned to him.

"Out," He whispered to the first year.

"Sorry?"

"Get out!" Harry yelled at the now-frightened young student, who promptly fell over before scrambling out of the classroom.

And then, suddenly, he was drinking. Trying to stop himself from thinking about the man that had taught him everything. The man that was now dead.

He took another long pull from his bottle, and fell into a drunken, restless sleep, the bottle falling from his limp fingers, and spilling out onto the floor.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: WELL. That was a short chapter. Not that my others were very long, but still. <strong>

**Well, sorry about that. I don't know why I keep writing these. xD **

**Ciao!**

**-Brandon**


	6. The Return

_**The Return**_

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall was worried. She had not heard from her errant Charms professor in over a month. He slipped her a note in the middle of the night, no notice! No time to find another professor to take up his post while he was on sabbatical! Nothing! And, since he had left, he had always sent a letter informing her of where he was, and that he was still alive.

She sighed. She knew that the locations he gave were in all likelihood completely fabricated. She knew this, but at least it was something to give to the Board of Governors. Now she had nothing. For the time being, at least. She had to tell them. She had covered for him thus far out of loyalty to Albus, but if she covered him much longer she would be risking her job. And that was something she just couldn't do.

She sighed, again. And then rose to get herself a stiff drink. She paused, and decided to make it a double.

As she reclined in the high-backed chair that sat in the center of the opulent office that every headmaster had governed from since the founding of this (_her_) wonderful school, she wondered about the past. When Albus had retired, he gave little warning or explanation. He had simply called the entire staff together one night, and had introduced them to a mousy little first-year Slytherin. After he had nervously introduced himself to the assembled professors, Albus dropped his little surprise on them. This small, unknown, seemingly normal boy was to become his apprentice. His _Apprentice_! Was the man completely and utterly _daft_? She was over one-hundred years old (Not that she'd ever admit it), and she had never known anyone to take an apprentice before Albus did.

An apprenticeship in the wizarding world was an extremely serious matter. Both parties signed an agreement in blood, which, in itself, was not an altogether uncommon thing. What _was_ uncommon, however, was the fact that the apprentice was basically a slave to the 'Master' until the master's natural death. Oh, and also that little part about the apprentice gaining control over the master's estate upon his death. Just a minor detail, she thought sarcastically.

She briefly wondered how Aberforth had taken that news. She knew that the relationship between Albus and his brother had been strained for many years, but completely cutting the younger son of the Dumbledore family out of any inheritance? That was cold, too cold.

And instead, he had given it to a complete unknown! A little boy! A _Slytherin_, no less. She sighed, trying vainly to remove that stigma, ingrained after so many years working with Snape. Slytherins were not necessarily bad people, but no one could deny that Slytherin House had turned out more bad people than the other Houses.

Damn, that stigma was in deep.

She sighed once more, and took a long drink of the alcohol she had poured. It burned its way down into her stomach, and her animagus form revealed itself as she let loose a content _purr._

Her thoughts drifted aimlessly through her head, as she rested her face in her hands. She just didn't know what to _do._ Albus always had a plan, always knew exactly what to do when a situation needed his attention. She had no such marvelous ability. She was only human, after all. Albus... Albus had been something altogether _more_ than human. Well, she thought with a rare blush, she knew he was _human_, of course. But he commanded a presence that demanded the attention of everyone in the area. When he spoke, people _listened._

And that was why she didn't understand the reason behind Albus taking an apprentice. He could twist people around his finger by simply talking to them. He didn't need a contract to force people to do his will, should he have wished it. But he didn't. Instead, he took an apprentice, bound to his every order, with the promise of the Dumbledore fortune for his troubles. It hardly seemed like an adequate trade for Albus.

She knew there was something she was missing. Something she wasn't seeing. Something that hinted at the true reason that Albus took that boy as his apprentice. What _was she missing_?

She was drawing a blank.

She stood and walked around the large, mahogany desk that was currently adorned with so many papers (Really, why did the headmaster of a school have _so many papers to sign?_), to the bookshelf covered in golden trinkets. Albus never would tell her what they did. He would merely sit there smiling, his eyes all a-twinkle.

_Bastard old man_... She grumbled internally as she continue to admire the simplistic beauty of the metallic objects. They themselves were nothing to glance twice at, but all together... All together, the movement of the trinkets seemed to find a common rhythm of shimmering scales, like the crest of waves crashing onto golden shores in some mysterious ocean.

_Sigh._

Suddenly, one of the trinkets glowed an angry red. She had no idea what was going on, so she simply stood there dumbly as the glowing got brighter, and brighter, and _brighter..._

When she thought that the once-golden object could get no brighter, it started to emit a high-pitched whistle. She looked at it closer.

"Oh lord, Albus, you barmy old goat," She mumbled fondly as she waved her wand at the offending object, which immediately cooled. "You could have told me about that one. It's a god-damned tea pot."

With a sigh, she poured out two glasses, and set one for the visitor she knew she was about to have.

"At least now, I know how he always knew when someone was about to enter. Although how he knew exactly _who_ it was remains a mystery."

"And a mystery it shall remain, I'm afraid," said a voice from behind her. To her credit, she only jumped a little. "Albus told me his secret in deepest confidence, and I'm not about to break his trust."

"Mr. Potter," She sighed, not turning around. "Albus has been dead for a year now. I do not mean to sound callous, but I should think his trust would be far from your mind when your job is at stake."

"My job is not at stake, Madam," The young professor stated calmly.

"Mr. Potter... Harry," She amended, "The Governors-"

"Have been taken care of, Madam," He interrupted smoothly, "They will not be bothering you about my absence any time soon."

For a short moment, before she turned around, she imagined she felt a bit of Albus' presence in Harry. She smiled slightly, barely a quirk of the lips, and turned to face her errant young professor.

"You've been gone nearly a year, Mr. Potter," Headmistress McGonagall stated regally, "What shall I do with you, to ensure that you do not simply run off once more?" She looked at him over the top of her horn-rimmed glasses, surveying him for the slightest sign of deceit in his answer.

"This was... This incident was something of a special case, Madam," He addressed her formally, "I can swear upon my magic that I will never leave here under such... inadequate preparations."

She was silent for a long moment, opting to simply stare into his eyes, looking for any trace of an answer. She found nothing. _Just like Albus_.

"You're dismissed. I fully expect you to be completely ready for your lessons in the morning, Professor."

"I've already prepared my lesson plans, four weeks in advance. In preparation for my return, you see." He returned.

"Of course, Mr. Potter," She replied neutrally. As he turned to leave, she called out once again.

"Oh, and Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, Headmistress?" The apprentice of Albus Dumbledore asked, facing the now-open door.

"Strange business, don't you think?"

"What do you mean, Madam?"

"All of those mysterious magical incidences that have happened over the past year. I heard that in Germany three months ago, an entire forest was leveled in a single flash of light. Remarkable, isn't it?" She asked neutrally.

"Strange business, Ma'am? No, I don't think it is. I think its simply magical," He winked at her, and walked through the doorway.

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall allowed herself a small smile as she watched the retreating back of the man who, quite possibly, would grow into some semblance of the giant that had once sat in the chair she now presided over this school from.

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall wasn't worried.

* * *

><p><em>Harry woke up the morning after he had gotten drunk, to find the entire bottle spilled onto the dark hardwood floors of his office. Instead of cleaning it up, he simply sat there and stared at it for a long while, thinking.<em>

_ What would Albus have said if he had seen what Harry had been reduced to, so soon after Albus had left him? Harry knew the answer to that, and it brought a small smile to his lips._

_ He quickly packed a bag, and jotted the headmistress a note. He charmed it to go to her office, and with nary a sound, he disappeared._

* * *

><p><em>Madagascar: 1 Month Later:<em>

_ Harry whooped with joy as his wand fell to the ground beside him, landing right on the manticore he had just conquered._

* * *

><p><em>New Zealand: 3 Months Later:<em>

_ He was running. Running faster than he had ever run in his life. Because, well... he was sort of running _for_ his life. Head-hunters, you know. But Harry was having fun. _

_ And that made it worth it._

* * *

><p><em>Japan: 6 Months Later:<em>

_ Harry dodged the sword that came swinging at him, tapping his wand against the cold metal as his eyes travelled up the now-disintegrating blade and into the lifeless eyes of the Phantom Suits of Armor that he had found._

* * *

><p><em>Antarctica: 8 Months Later:<em>

_ He sat down on the frozen earth and let out a breath in victory. He'd found it. The remains of Atlantis. Hidden under nearly a mile of ice just shy of the South Pole._

_ He stood up, and walked away._

* * *

><p><em>North America: 9 Months Later:<em>

_ Harry breathed out a thick cloud of smoke and passed the bone pipe down to the next member of the circle in the small hut he found himself in._

* * *

><p><em>Germany: 11 Months Later:<em>

_ Harry let loose a primal sound, indescribable by human tongues, and all people for miles around were struck with the sensation of something far more powerful than themselves staring into their very souls and judging them. Another indescribable sound passed through his lips as he coughed up an unhealthy amount of blood, and he watched as reality bent into a flash of white light._

* * *

><p><em><strong><strong>_**AN: Another chapter done, that makes 6 tonight. Five of this story, and one of my other story.**

**Its been a very productive night, I'd say.**

**REVIEW.**

**-Brandon.**


	7. The Musician

_**The Musician**_

Harry awoke to the wards attempting to crush his skull, once again. A quick flash of annoyance and a small exertion of will swiftly remedied that problem. Harry smiled and dressed as fast as he could. It was his first day back at Hogwarts, and he would not miss this breakfast for anything.

Seriously. Not for anything.

Harry's face was set in tight lines, seemingly etched in stone as he walked down the staircase to the doors of the Great Hall. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and reached out to the handles-

"Mr. Potter... So our resident renegade is once again back inside the castle," Severus Snape practically purred. "Done gallivanting across the countryside?" He silkily asked the younger professor. "Or have you only returned for the women?"

Harry, for his part, merely smiled at the snide professor. "Severus, its good to see you again."

Harry extended his hand, which Severus grudgingly shook.

"Shall we, Severus?" He asked, gesturing to the giant double doors of the Great Hall. Severus looked at him oddly.

"I think not, Potter. Lunch does not begin for another few hours."

Now Harry turned an odd look to him. "Lunch? Breakfast-"

"Ended an hour ago," Snape broke in, sighing tiredly at his former student. "I swear, you couldn't keep time if we strapped a- Never-mind. You have a class to teach in," He glanced at the giant clock about the entrance, "Four minutes and thirty-two seconds. I suggest you hurry."

Harry swore and bid his goodbyes to his old Potions professor, taking off down the halls at a run. He took the stairs three at a time as he ascended to the third floor, panting heavily by the time he reached his classroom.

As small burst of Occlumency calmed his nerves and evened out his breathing, and a freshening charm took care of the sweat he had accumulated during his nice little jog through the castle.

"Hello students! Welcome to Charms!" He announced as he walked inside the room, turning to look around the door he saw-

Nothing. The classroom was empty. He looked at the clock. Breakfast had ended three minutes ago.

"_SNAAAAAPE_!" He screamed.

In another part of the castle, Severus Snape laughed. Which, incidentally, scared the entire student body.

In yet another part of the castle, Minerva McGonagall felt a headache brewing.

* * *

><p>Far, far away from Hogwarts Castle, and yet still so very near to it, a man was stooped over a concrete floor in an abandoned warehouse. He was mumbling to himself softly as he scribbled unique and strangely beautiful lines in chalk onto the unforgiving floor. The lines spread in a wide circle, arcing back and forth, to and fro, here and there, and back again. As one looked closer, one would notice that the lines look strangely foreign. Like they were <em>wrong.<em> They appeared to be eating away at the concrete, no... the _space_ that they were drawn in, consuming every atom that it touched.

Suddenly, the man stopped drawing and stood. He shrugged off his loose cloak to reveal his naked body to the empty warehouse. The man was old, far too old. He seemed to be falling apart while he stood, bones and fingers unnaturally long and thin. His silvery-pale skin seemed to be falling off of his insides, the muscle that bound the skin to the bone long since gone.

The man walked around the circle he had painstakingly drawn twice, mumbling the whole way. He stopped at the spot where he had began, and a knife appeared silently in his hand.

The man shouted something indistinguishable, his jaw having fallen off its hinges, and now hung limply, the skin beginning to slowly tear as gravity took hold of it.

But in the most powerful magics, the words are not the important part of the spell. Its all about the _intent_.

There was a deep rumbling. A bitter, fiery cold swept through the building, the smell of ozone and permafrost close behind. The man appeared unfazed by the change in atmosphere, even as the earth inside the circle crumbled away to reveal a dark, fiery pit. And then, the angry red arm of a giant reached out of the pit, grabbing at the edges of the circle to pull itself up.

The man watched calmly as the _thing_ he had summoned brought itself up from the pit from whence it came. He waited until it was head-and-shoulders above the opening before he spoke.

The man called over to the beast in words no human could understand, and over the deafening roar of the magic keeping the demon contained withing the circle.

"_**Who are you that dares to command Us?**_" The thing asked, its voice everywhere at once, and nowhere at all. "_**Who are you, who does not call Our name, mortal?**_"

The man spoke again, speaking his impossible words that only the demon could understand. The demon poked experimentally at the barrier, and it flashed white in protest. The demon pulled back as if stung.

"_**We see. But We do not accept your dominion over Us, mortal**_," The demon called in its own impossible voice, "_**We do not accept subjugation without Our name, and a sacrifice, which you of all mortals should know very well**_."

The man nodded sharply, evidently displeased with this turn of events. He turned away from the demon for a moment to rummage through his discarded cloak. He emerged with a victorious noise and turned back to the beast with a wand, white as snow, in hand. He pressed the wand to his throat.

An unimaginable word burst from the man's throat, along with a torrent of blood that left him hacking. But the word had been spoken, a deep, guttural, growling noise, light as a feather to your ears, and yet so heavy to your soul.

The beast_ screamed _in pleasure.

* * *

><p>Harry's head snapped to the west. He stared, eyes unseeing, for a long moment, uninterrupted.<p>

"Professor?" A young, squirrelly looking little girl of the Hufflepuff House asked. "Are you alright?"

"Mm," His attention shifted, he shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "Just haven't had enough sleep today, Florine, that's all. Now, what was your question again?" He continued to help his struggling students for the next few hours, and then sent them on their way with some extra reading assigned.

He looked back to the west and stared for a while. He frowned and shook his head, as if to clear the cobwebs.

"Must be my imagination," He cracked a smile and left the room, locking it behind him as he went down to the Great Hall for some much needed dinner.

* * *

><p>Kilometres away, in a small village in Wales, a woman's head also snapped to the direction of the demon. Her reaction was vastly different from Harry's.<p>

She broke into a smile too wide to fit into a human face. The skin on her face ripped in places, revealing something _writhing, alive,_ just beneath the surface. Something foreign.

"_This should be fun, shouldn't it my little prince?" _She spoke, her voice too deep to be natural.

And, at Hogwarts, Harry sneezed and wondered at who was talking about him.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Interlude: A Very Merry Christmas to You, Mr. Potter!<strong>_

_ "His m-master just died! That's why h-he was so m-moody last year! S-so... I don't see... I don't see why we have to get him a present now!" The third-year Charity Bones complained._

_ "Charity! Don't say that! He still must be hurting, and I want to make him feel better," Third-year Feline McCannon said firmly, "And that's final!" She added when she saw Charity move to complain more._

_ Charity huffed. "Fine! But if McGonogall won't tell us anything, then we give up, deal?"_

_ Feline crossed her fingers. "Deal."_

_ They had reached the Headmistress' office, now, so the time for arguing was over. Feline leaned in to whisper to the Gargoyle that guarded the entrance._

_ "We're here to see the Headmistress about something that concerns Professor Potter." She whispered softly, not wanting anyone to overhear her talking about it._

_ The passageway opened almost immediately and McGonagall was halfway down the stairs to meet them. She was speaking in hurried, urgent whispers._

_ "What is it girls? What has he done? Did he... Did he touch you?" Both girls flushed red in indignation and embarrassment, and vehemently denied this._

_ "What is it then?" McGonagall asked, once she had calmed down and ushered them into her office. "What about Harry prompted you to come to me?"_

_ "Well, Headmistress, we heard from the other professors that this is a question best asked of you-" Feline started._

_ "Yeah, but they said they weren't comfortable answering, and that you knew him best anyway." __Charity piped in._

_ "So we came to ask you..." Feline began again._

_ "What should we get Professor Potter for Christmas?" They asked together, blushing and looking down toward the floor._

_ McGonagall sat, dumbfounded for a moment. Slowly, a smile slid onto her face, which turned into a grin, which turned into a snicker, which eventually devolved into full-blown laughter. _

_ The two teenage witches were slightly alarmed. They had never heard the Headmistress laugh before. But they were smiling, too._

_ "What to get _him_ for Christmas, eh? That's a tough one."_

_ "Well, what did Mr. Dumbledore like?" Charity asked innocently. Feline could have smacked her._

_ McGonagall smiled sadly. "I don't know if Albus'... eccentric tastes really apply to Harry. Though, the first year that those two returned, I distinctly remember Harry being rather displeased with the present he got. Something along the lines of 'Too many books, not enough heart.' So, my advice would be to get him something from the heart." She stated, looking over her glasses at the two girls. "And I mean it when I say _heart_. If I hear about either of you two... _propositioning_ Mr. Potter, I will be most displeased." The innuendo was obvious, and, being hormonal teenage girls, they blushed deep red._

* * *

><p><em> "Think girls!" Feline said, standing on a table in the Hufflepuff common room. "What can we get him 'from our hearts?'" Indistinct murmurs are all that answered her question. She sighed in frustration. Christmas was so close! They had to get him a present soon.<em>

_ "Think harder, come on! I know you guys can do it!" _Huh_, she thought to herself, _maybe I should be a motivational speaker.

_A small girl in the back raised her hand slowly._

_ Nearly shaking with relief, Feline pointed to the girl._

_ "Hi, my name is Audrey Lovegood... Um... I think we should get him..." She looked at all of the girls now staring at her and blushed. "Promise you won't laugh!" She said, scooting away a bit._

_ "We promise, Audrey." Feline reassured her, hopping down off the table and ushering Audrey up onto it._

_ "Well, I think we should get him socks." Audrey said, biting her lip nervously._

_ There was silence for a moment._

_ And then, as one, the class yelled "Socks?"_

_ "They were the only thing Albus wanted for Christmas! And he never got them except from Harry!" Audrey defended, backing away from the crowd, and looking close to tears._

_ "Leave her alone, you guys! Her idea has merit!" Feline stated, standing in front of Audrey. _

_ "Seriously?" Charity said disgustedly. "Well, you too go ahead and get him socks, then. We'll get him a real present."_

_ Anger took hold of Feline for a moment and she snapped back. "Fine, we will! But, if he likes it, don't come crawling back!"_

_ "Like we would!" She heard Charity yell at her back as she left the Hufflepuff common room. Audrey and Feline were both Ravenclaws, but Charity was Feline's (ex)bestfriend, so she (used to) spent most of her time there. She had dragged Audrey with._

_ "I'm sorry, Audrey," Feline sobbed, sliding down the wall and sitting with her head in her arms._

_ "Shhh... Don't cry Feline," Audrey sat down with her and just hugged her as she mourned the loss of her first best friend._

* * *

><p><em> Feline and Audrey both got Professor Potter a separate pair of wool socks. Audrey's pair had revolving stars magically stitched around the toes, and were a deep blue in colour. Feline's socks were bright yellow, with little elephants running around and frolicking in the fabric.<em>

_ The other girls all chipped in together and got the professor a wand-polishing kit. _

_ It was time to see who was right._

_ They knocked. _

_ There was a small tap on the other side of the door, and a voice called out. "One minute!"_

_ A minute later, the door creaked open, and Professor Potter appeared. "Yes, girls? What is it that you require from me?" he asked with eyebrows raised._

_ Feline and Audrey stepped forward, but were shoved roughly out of the way by the other girls. They both looked up at their Professor and saw a flash of anger in his eye, though it was gone so quickly they thought they might have imagined it. _

_ As Charity stepped forward and gave him his gift, his only reply was a curt "Thank you for the generous gift." And he shooed them away._

_ We stepped up to give him his present after the others had left. He held up his hand._

_ "I will only accept this gift if you two eat dinner with me. Its been very lonely in this castle for me there last couple months. I'd like some company on today of all days, if you don't mind." He waited with a patient smile as we looked at each other and smiled, nodding eagerly to his offer._

_ A couple of hours later, the girls left, tired and full of Christmas food. And Harry sent them on their merry way with presents of their own._

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><p><em> McGonagall waited until the girls had left to knock on the door that had just closed. She knocked, and a few seconds later, Harry answered.<em>

_ "Yes, Headmistress?" He asked with a smile._

_ "Its Minerva, Harry." She graced him with a rare, wide smile._

_ "Minerva it is, then." He opened the door wider, to allow her to enter. "Would you like a cuppa?"_

_ "That would be lovely, Harry, thank you." She pulled a gift wrapped in proper purple paper from withing her robes, and set it under the great tree near the fireplace. "Happy Christmas, Harry!"_

_ "Happy Christmas, Minerva!" He said laughing as he handed her a cup of hot tea. _

_ "I set your present under the tree."_

_ "I set your present under the tree in your office." He grinned slyly._

_ "Harry, there isn't a tree in my office." She said, though she would have liked one._

_ "There is now."_

_ She didn't quite believe him, but decided to let it go._

_ They spent the next few hours drinking tea (and eventually some very strong eggnog), and talking about days gone by. They talked a lot about Albus, and both of them knew that they needed it._

_ When Harry opened his present, he laughed. He laughed hard._

_ And then he hugged her._

_ And with tears in her eyes, she hugged him back._

_When Minerva got back to her office later that night, the first thing she noticed was the giant tree in the corner, decorated to the nines. A great surge of excitement flooded through her veins, and she felt like an eight year old again, as she grabbed that present from Harry and ripped it open._

_ She stared at the open package for a moment, bewildered._

_ And then she laughed, and understood why Harry laughed._

_ They had both bought wool socks for each other, to remind them of Albus. _

_ "A very merry Christmas to you, Mr. Potter!" She called out to the empty office, a huge smile upon her face._

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><p><strong>AN: Yep, my own little slice of Christmas Cheer, right there. Hope you guys enjoyed it.<strong>

**Aaaand, just so you guys know, I may go back and rewrite these because, tired as I am, I see that there are quite a few mistakes, and places where I didn't add enough detail, etc. **

**The demon part was my favourite part of this chapter. And keep a lookout for the man-who-is-falling-apart, and the not-quite-woman! They are pretty big characters. You get points if you can guess who they are. Give you a hint, they are canon characters, and neither of them is big ol' Voldy.**

**As always,**

**PLEASE REVIEW. **

**REVIEW.**

**REVIEW.**

**REVIEW.**

**REVIEW.**

**REVIEW. **

**REVIEW.**

**-Brandon.**


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